Coming Home
by Crazyperson8
Summary: What if John and Sherlock already were friends before a Study in Pink and what will the yard think of Sherlock having a friend?
1. Note

This will be a split story. Everyone needs to read chapter 1. For those who want to read the crime scene option read ch 2, and 3. For those who want to read drug bust option read ch 4, and 5.


	2. Chapter 1

"Hello Sherlock" The man on my laptop screen is of short stature, has dirt blond hair that is lightly greying. His face is tiered but he is smiling.

"John" I cannot keep the grin off my face.

When I was twelve I was keep out of my third private school. Mommy decided that I would attend a public school and if I got kick out of there mommy would take way my violin that my grandmother left me in her will.

Apparently it had got leaked how many times I've been kick out of school. If that wasn't enough to make me a social outcast my cold behavior was. It was a week after my first day and I was at break. I had sneaked into the science lab and was looking at different plant under a microscope. "Hello can I help you?"

I glance up. The voice belonged to a short, blonde teenage boy around the age of sixteen.

"No" then turn back to my work

"Ok, what are you doing?" He didn't sound angry just curious.

"Looking at plant cells and figuring out what stage they are in" My tone came out bored. It was child's play but there was nothing better to do. I turn around and look at him. He was easy enough to deduce. Father is military, woke up late, plays rugby, and wants to go into the medical field but also the military.

"How did you know that?"

Oh was I speaking out loud?

"Your clothing and hair style suggest someone in your family is in the military could be brother but most likely is you father. "You have your lunch box out even though it's not yet noon. Didn't' have time for breakfast because you woke up late. Your shoes are stained with a distinct coloration that most of the rugby players have from the playing on the rugby field. I know you want to be in the medical field because you're carrying around a medical journal that is not required for school. You also respect your father which is shown by the fact that you have military support buttons on your backpack and most likely want to follow in his footsteps."

"That was amazing!"

"You thank so" What is going on?

"Yes, you must be really smart."

"Yes"

"Modest too I see" he laugh. Not the cruel laugh I was use to but a real friendly laugh.

"I'm John Watson. I left my textbook in here earlier. "

"Sherlock Holmes"

"Nice to meet you Sherlock"

After that it didn't take long for us to become friends. John Watson best and only friend of Sherlock Holmes

"How is the world's only consulting detective doing?"

"I'm have not relapsed and I'm not even smoking John" He is such a mother hen sometimes.

After John joined the military and was stationed in Germany I dropped out of the university and started using cocaine. It was a combination of John and meeting Lestrade that lead to me becoming clean and starting my new career. That was five years ago. I have relapsed only once and that was a year ago when John was sent to Afghanistan.

"Sorry, I can't help but worry about you."

"Shouldn't I be the one worrying? You're the one having bullet being shot at you."

John laughs "point taken"  
"When do you get to come home" even to myself I sound whinny.

"Six more months and I'll be there in person to fatten you up even if I have to tie you up and spoon feed you."

"I would like to see you try" I huff

"I got to go my times up."

"Bye John"

"Bye Lockie"

"You know I hate that nickname"

John only laughs before the screen goes dark.

Six months never seemed so far way.

.


	3. Crime Scene ch 2

A man murdered in his upstairs flat with a blunt object. His landlady who lives in the flat below him was home all day and was not aware of any visitors. No one was buzzed in yet she claims only herself and the deceased were the only one with a key yet there are no signs of forced entry.  
It is a five at best but the criminal class has been dull the last three weeks and my brain is rotting away. In other word I'm bored so very bored. It was either take this case from Lestrade or give in and except the case from Mycroft that is of "national importance" that he has been nagging me about, lazy git. It was not a difficult choice.  
Getting out of the cab I hear "freak's here." Donavan is glaring at me with her usual malice.  
"Sally, going on a date with Anderson later I see." Glancing at Anderson supports my theory. Sally is wearing a dark blue dress under her coat, dress shoes, and diamond earrings. Also Anderson's dress shirt collar is visible even though his is wearing his blue protective clothing and I can smell his cologne even from here. What did he do bath in it?  
"Shut up freak you have no proof of that." Anderson snarls. "And frankly I'm tired of…"  
I tone him out before any of my brain cells die. His face is getting rather red. What is the reddest someone face can get? One day I'll do and experiment on it and Anderson would be the perfect person to use.  
"And at least I have someone who cares about me. No one could care for a freak like you."  
I keep my face neutral but that did hit a mark. Not that Anderson was correct, that will be the day, because I have John. John, who I haven't Skyped with in two and half weeks; missed our last meeting which is not unusual. The area in which he is at loses internet connection frequently but I cannot stop myself from thinking of all the possibilities. Did he get a new assignment? Was he needed because someone had been shot? The possibilities are almost endless but there is one idea that will not leave my mind. Is he hurt or missing? Now is not the time to think of John. I have a crime to solve.  
"Anderson enough" Lestrade states before Anderson can keep ranting.  
"But sir"  
"No buts Anderson just do you job. Sherlock follow me." Lestrade's voice is strained.  
Late night, hair is uncombed, his stance is stiff; his back hurts so he slept on the sofa. He fought with his wife. Oh, he finally found out that his wife cheating on him with the delivery man. I'm surprised that it took him so long to find out. I've known for two months.

John  
The flight back to London was horrible. My shoulder was throbbing and the uncomfortable seats did not help. The flight attendant and other passengers kept glancing at me and my cane. The pitying glances were getting tiring. So here I am waiting to get my luggage.  
"Hello John"  
"Mycroft" Of course the 'British Government' would know that I'm home and what flight I was on. "Does Sherlock know?"  
"He is unaware and at the moment he is at a crime scene with Lestrade. I'm afraid I do not have time to take you there myself but I have a car waiting for you. Also your luggage is being sent to Baker Street. " Mycroft smirks. "Follow me"  
"Cheers" It comes out a bit sarcastic but at least I don't have to try to find a cab.  
"Are you sure that you won't reconsider." Not this again  
"I'm Sherlock's friend. I'm not going to spy on him for you." He did not seem surprised by my answer.  
"It is good to see you again John."  
"Bye Mycroft" Some things never change.  
"Are you ready to leave sir?" the driver asks.  
"Yes, thank you"  
I'm finally going to get to see Sherlock. The last five years have been hectic. The first three and half years I was stationed in Germany. I only got to see him a handful of times during that period. Twice I came back to London and the other time Sherlock came to Germany. Then I found out I was to be sent to Afghanistan. Six months later I was at the airport. Sherlock came to see me off. I had seen him take on bullies, strangers, and even his family without any fear. For the first time I saw fear in his eyes. Not for himself but for me.  
He made me promise that I would come home alive. I'm now able to keep that promise.  
I can't wait to see Sherlock at work. I have never seen him solve a case in person or meet any of the yarders. I know about Lestrade only because Sherlock has spoken about him during our Skype sessions. All I know is that Sherlock believe that they're all idiot particularly some bloke called Anderson.  
"We are here sir"  
"Oh, thank you"  
I start walking up to two police officers to ask about Sherlock.  
"Why did Lestrade have to call him here? We don't need him." The rat-like man rants.  
I instantly do not like this man for some reason.  
"I don't know. One day we will get called to a crime scene and it will be Holmes who put the body there." The woman sneers.  
I feel my face heat up. Calm down Watson. Just ask were Sherlock is and move on.  
"I mean the guy is unhuman. He has no feelings and if he died not one single person would care." The man adds.  
My hands are pulled into fists. I can't help but want to punch him in the face.  
"He is such a freak" The disgust is easy enough to see on her face  
That's it! No one calls Sherlock a freak and gets away with it.  
I cough to get their attention.  
"Can we help you?" the rat asks  
"Yes I need to see Lestrade please." I force my voice to be calm.  
The woman nods. "I'll go see if he has time to…"  
"I'm right here Donavan." A gray haired man speaks up by the door.  
"Hello" he shakes my hand "How can I help you?"  
"Could you please tell me why your officers are acting like spoiled brats?" My voice turns to ice.  
"Who do you think you are?" the woman shrieks.  
"John Watson but you can call me Captain Watson." It's time to show these people what happens when you mess with my best friend.


	4. Crime Crime 2 (ch 3)

**Sherlock**

The apartment is spotless and everything is perfect except for the scene in the living room. The living room is like a museum. There are shelves and china cabinets full of collectibles. The furniture is all antique and in perfect condition. The man is positioned on his stomach and has dried blood on the back of his head. Taking out my magnifying glass I look at his skull and the floor. I can feel Lestrade stare. "I'll give you five minutes. I need to go speak with Donavan to see if anything has been found."

I don't respond but keep looking at the skull. . I run my finger around the wound. There are sharp, small, clear, fragments left behind from the object. Being so close to the ground I notice a chemical smell. I then run my hand on the wooden floors. Then, I go around the man's body taking in all the details. I walk over to the nearest shelf and examine its context.

You have got to be joking. Do they not know the difference between a murder and an accident? Anyone with half a brain can see that this is not murder. He was cleaning the floor based off of the smell of it and slipped. His socks are still wet. He hit the wall making a crystal globe fall of the shelf which landed on his head which then rolled under the end table. He blacked out before he could reach for his cell phone in his pocket and he then bled to death. It's so obvious. What is it like in normal humans' brain? It must be so boring. There is only one normal person I know who is not completely dull but he's not here.

Maybe I could get Mycroft to get John sent home early. I would end up owing him a favor but it would be worth it to have him home for a while. John would be mad if he knew that I got Mycroft to interfere but he wouldn't have to know. No, it would not be worth it if John found out. I don't like John being angry with me. He doesn't make me tea. He also yells and won't entertain me but the worst is his face. He looks disappointed when he is angry and that's not right. John should be saying "incredible" and "amazing", not looking at me like that.

-job working at a hospital. John really wanted that job but was worried that he would not get it. I had Mycroft pull some strings; even at nineteen he had governmental influence. Mycroft owed me for not telling mummy that he left me alone at a museum to go meet up with some union friends when he was home on Christmas break. Needless to say John got the job.

Two days after he started John found out. Apparently he overheard his boss talking about how he got a phone call from a government official recommending John. John came over to my house that night and yelled about me interfering. He could tell that I didn't understand why it was a problem. He went on to explain that he wanted to get by on his own merit. Ugh, sentiment.

Sentiment is a chemical defect in the brain. I know this, but I cannot stop myself when it comes to John. He has always been the exception. Normal people bore me. John is normal. He likes to eat, sleep, and do normal activities, yet he is not normal. He finds me amazing, likes danger, and is my conductor of light. He also can surprise me which very few people can do.

What's taking Lestrade so long? He never leaves me alone at a crime scene for longer than a few minutes.

**John**

"I was led to believe that Scotland Yard is the best and would not tolerate unprofessionalism."

"I can assure you Captain Watson that Scotland Yard is the best and that they are all professionals." the Lestrade defended.

"Really? Because I do not consider it being professional to call someone unhuman and a freak, especially when that someone is helping them do their jobs. I have not been this angry in a long time. Also, if they have a problem with someone they should not talk about them in an area where other people can hear."

Lestrade looks over at the officers. "I apologize for my officers' behavior. I will make sure that it does not happen again. Anderson, Donavan apologize for your behavior."

Oh, so this is Anderson. I can understand why Sherlock doesn't like him.

"It's not our fault. You have not met the man. Holmes comes here acting like he owns the place and insults us." Anderson rages.

"He doesn't get paid; he just does this for fun. He has no respect for the victims and treats them like his play things. " the woman adds.

"So that gives you the right to act like children who didn't get their away? So you don't hate him because he is better at your job than you are? Also, have you considered that he insults you because of your conduct? I mean I have a hard time respecting people who are having an affair. " That may be low but at the moment I don't care.

"What!" Anderson yells.

"How dare you imply such a thing?" Donavan screams.

"Well, the way you're both dressed and the goo-goo eyes you're giving each other suggests that you're together. He is wearing a wedding band but you are not. So an affair it is then." I didn't spend years with Sherlock without learning a few tricks.

Everyone looks surprised.

"You missed the lipstick." I would know that voice anywhere. "Shot in the shoulder, has a psychosomatic limp and suffers from night terrors."

"Sherlock, stop. Do not insult a returned solider." Lestrade sounds upset.

I turn around and look at my best friend. "Amazing!"

"You know you say that out loud?" He's tone is warm.

"I've been told that before, yes."

We both break into laughter. I've missed this so much. Everyone is staring as if we've lost our mind.

"Sherlock, we can't laugh we're at a crime scene."

"It's your fault John, you're the one that started it."

"Wait, you two know each other?" Lestrade questions.

"Of course. John's my best friend."

Everything goes quiet.

"Wait, your friends with the freak?" Anderson sounds confused.

"Do not call him that." Ok, I now really want to punch him in the face.

"John, don't punch him. It would be a waste of time. You would get arrested, then we would have to wait at least ten minutes for Mycroft to get you out. It wouldn't be on your record, but we have better things to do." Sherlock turns toward Lestrade.

"Do you not know the difference between a murder and an accident? How blind are you people?..."

It is good to be home and back where I belong.


	5. Drug Bust ch 4

**Sherlock**

Pink, of course the suitcase had to be pink. No man, which is more likely, can be seen with that case without drawing people's attention to him. It would not have taken him more than five minutes to realize his mistake. How did Lestrade not understand that? It is so obvious.

I'm at the second dumpster within that time range from where the body was found at the end of the time line. There is the usual trash such as boxes, bottles, newspapers, and other everyday items. Some more interesting items are love letters to a mistress, bank records, a dead fish and some unidentifiable (without my microscope) mush, but what is most interesting is the pink suitcase right on top.

Smiling, I grab the case and start back to the main strip. I need to hurry home for my Skype meeting with John. Last time, he didn't make it, which is not unusual. The place where he is located loses power often and sometimes he has to miss our meetings because injured soldiers get brought in, or he gets a new assignment. So I'm not concerned. No, not at all. A part of my brain is calling me a liar. Sentiment is a chemical defect on the losing side. I've always know this, yet John has always been the exception; ever since the first "amazing" all those years ago.

John is the only person who appreciates my brilliance. He calls my deductions amazing, brilliant, wonderful, and many other adjectives. As great as that is, that is not the main reason John is my friend. John is my friend because he is different from any other person. Everyone else just sees normal John. John who likes tea, jumpers, Chinese food, and junk telly but I get to see the real John. John does like all that but he likes danger and adrenaline even more. He needs that as much as I need intellectual stimulation. He also shares my dark sense of humor and can understand me more than anyone else, even Mycroft.

I flag down a cab. The cabbie looks at the pink case and gives me a funny look, which I ignore.

"Address?" the cabbie asks looking at me curiously.

"221B Baker Street."

**John**

A hot shower is an amazing thing, especially after being on airplane for that long. I pick up Sherlock's shampoo, which I'm sure costs more than my whole wardrobe. It has a nice spice smell but is not too sweet like most shampoos. I hold onto the side bar so I don't fall.

"Stupid limp." I was not even shot in the leg for crying out loud.

Then, I carefully move my other shoulder, which is still sore, and start washing my hair. It's good to be back in London, though I wish I didn't have to get shot to be here. It was nice to meet Mrs. Hudson in person. I first met her during a Skype meeting with Sherlock, when she came in to give Sherlock some tea soon after he moved into the flat. Mrs. Hudson was pleased to see me. She cried then insisted that I eat some of her biscuits. They were the same kind that she sent in her care packages.

I wonder where Sherlock is? Probably at the morgue or maybe on a case. Sherlock wanted to take me on a case with him when I got back, but with this leg I'll be more of a hindrance than help. Not that I would be that much help. anyway. No one but Mycroft can keep up with that brain of his.

I finish washing my hair and body and just stand letting the warm water run over me. My leg is starting to throb so I'll need to get out soon. Maybe I could get Mrs. Hudson to bring me some more biscuits and tea. I turn off the water and reach for the towel.

"Donavan check the bedroom" a man orders.

"Yes, sir" a woman responds.

What is going on? I quickly dry off and decided to put on Sherlock's bathrobe instead of taking the time to dress. Quietly, I open the door. There is a gray haired man in a suit standing in the middle of the kitchen talking to a rat-like man and five other people looking through Sherlock's (well, I guess it's mine as well as Sherlock's now) flat. Oh no, I left my gun upstairs.

"Sir, I found a box, but it's password protected." The same woman from earlier comes out of Sherlock's room and states,

"We finally got him." The rat man smiles

"It has to be something I'm..." the woman stops as she looks in my direction. "Ahhhhh" scream is coming out of her mouth.

The gray haired man turns around. "What are you doing here and who are you?" he asks looking surprised and suspicious.

I ignore his question. "Who are you all?" I demand in my captain's voice.

He is looking me up and down, as if he is thinking that I'm going to pull out a weapon, which I might have if I had it on me.

"I'm Detective Inspector Lestrade and the others are New Scotland Yard officers. Now who are you? "

"Caption John Watson of Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, now why are you here?"

"It's a drugs bust" The woman responds "and this box will prove it once we can open it."

I recognize the box right away. We both have one. Sherlock got them a few weeks before I left for union. He said my box was to keep my roommate out of my stuff. I keep photos, mostly of Sherlock and I and now my gun in there.

"The password is 0210 but you won't find any drugs in there." I know Sherlock is clean and if he was going to hide drugs he wouldn't keep them in anyplace that I know about.

The woman enters the code and looks surprised when it opens. "How did you know that?"

Everyone is looking at me; some look surprised while others look disbelieving.

"What are you all doing here?" a deep voice asks from the door.

"I knew you would find the case I'm not stupid." Lestrade answers

"Hey freak care to explain why there is a blonde army guy in your bathrobe?" The woman asks.

Sherlock quickly turns around. "Hello Sherlock" my voice cracks.


	6. Drug Bust 2 ch 5

The man in front of me is short, with graying blond hair; his eyes are blue but look as if they have seen too much. John

"Was shot in the left shoulder, has a psychosomatic limp, was honorably discharged, and recently just had biscuits with strawberry jam and tea. You decided to take a shower to relax after your long airplane ride when you heard people moving in the flat. You decided that instead of dressing in your own cloths you would put on my bath robe because it was quicker. " The deductions fly out of my mouth before I can stop them.

The room explodes with voices.

"Sherlock" Lestrade says tiredly

"Definitely a psychopath" Anderson grins

"You're such a freak. You really don't have any feelings do you?" Donavan screeches and turns to John "I'm sorry sir, ignore him he is just…. "

"Brilliant" John cuts her off and is smiling at me.

I feel warm. I have missed hearing those words in person.

"Welcome home John." I'm smiling a real smile which only John can bring about.

"Thanks, but how did you know about the biscuits and tea? The other deductions I can somewhat understand how you deduced them."

"I know Mrs. Hudson was home all day since she went shopping yesterday and her hip is actin up. Also she had to let you in since you do not have a key. She would insist on feeding you and I know that she made biscuits before I left. You always have jam on your biscuits and your favorite is strawberry and well of course you had tea with biscuits." It was simple really.

"Amazing" John's smile grows.

"How do you to know each other?" Lestrade asks sounding confused.

"I'm Sherlock best friend and now flatmate." John is looking at me as if he is questioning if I still want him to move in. Idiot

"I hope you don't mind the violin." I respond to the unasked question.

"Your friends with the freak" both Donavan and Anderson are looking as if the impossible has happened which to them it has.

"Do not call him that." John's voice is quiet and ice cold. He looks like he is thinking about taking both of them down and he could even with the bad shoulder and limp. He looks like the same boy who stood up to all the students who teased me in school. Some things never change.

Both look surprised and stop taking.

Lestrade is glancing down at my box. Darn I bet it was Donavan who found it. .

"How did you know the code?" Lestrade asks John

"I know because it is the same as mine. The code is the day we met." John answers

Everyone but John is looking at me oddly.

"Is there anything you wish to tell us before we open the box?" Lestrade asks

I really don't want them to open but there is no point arguing.

"No"

Lestrade takes opens the top and is taking out a stack of papers.

"Is this both of you?" Lestrade sound unbelieving

He is holding a photograph of two teen boys. The first is younger but taller with curly hair and the other has short blond hair. Both are laughing in the photo.

"Yes"

"It was taken after a prank we pull on Mycroft." John explains.

I grin remembering the look on Mycroft's face when he found out his umbrella was missing. It took him two days to find it.

"Who is Mycroft?" Anderson asks

"His older brother" John is smiling as if recalling Mycroft's face as well.

"'There is two of them?" Donavan says sounding horrified.

"What about this one?" Lestrade holds up another photo.

My face is pulling into a grimace. It was the photo of me at the fair. John had dragged me to the fair for his eighteenth birthday. He talked me into going on some of the rides even. After the rides he kept trying to win some dump game. I finally got tired and won it for him. John had made me hold the stuff rabbit he had picked out as the prize. In the photo I'm giving John, who was behind the camera, a dirty look.

Walking over I grab my stuff out of Lestrade's hands. I don't want him to find John's letters that he wrote over the years. For some reason I kept them; all of them and the contents is no one else's business.

"As you can see there are no drugs. I'm clean."

"Ok I will leave you to it. I'll be taking the case." Lestrade is trying not to laugh.

"It was nice to meet you." John says

"You too" Lestrade responds

The rest of the officers follow behind and the door shuts.

"We're going to need to change the code now." I am not pouting.

"What about today's date?" John says as he is walking over to the box.

"Fine" it fits. Today is a new beginning. "I need to go to Angelo's for a case. Do you want to come?"

"I don't know. Won't I hold you back?"

Rolling my eyes I quickly think of a plan.

"I could be dangerous."

"I hate you." John teases

"No you don't" I'm smirking

"No I don't"

"Come on John the game is one."

A few hours later

John

Sherlock has a smirk on his face again.

"What?" I question

"Your leg"

I look down. What about my leg. It then hits me. I left my cane behind at the restaurant.

"You need me." Sherlock states as a fact

"You don't have to be a prat about it." I head into the kitchen

"Well I would be lost without my conductor of light." I hear behind me. Smiling I start making two cups of tea. I may not be a soldier any more but I know that I found where I belong; with my crazy, genius, best friend. It will be a crazy life but I wouldn't change a thing.


	7. Our Lives

_Our Lives _is now up.


End file.
